


Hitched without a Hitch

by palmtreelights



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers Lightspeed Rescue
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friends as Family, Friendship, Gen, Puns & Word Play, Retirement, Self-Indulgent, Slice of Life, Team as Family, Wedding Fluff, saccharine at times, who even am i anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5110118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palmtreelights/pseuds/palmtreelights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To build up excitement for their upcoming wedding, Carter and Dana spend the week before the day of the ceremony apart. (Set vaguely post legendary battle.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hitched without a Hitch

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be short and fluffy, and it got sooo out of hand ahaha. Shoutout to the usual suspects for putting up with me, especially these past few months. You're heroes.

Day 1: Apart

 

In his dream, Carter falls as the lid is closed on the tomb, and the impact of his back against the stone ground knocks the air out of his lungs.

In the real world, the gasping breath he takes right after is what wakes him.

The bedroom is sunny, quiet save for the harsh cawing of the birds that like to perch in the palm trees by the balcony of the apartment. His breathing echoes in the space, ringing in his ear even as it slows back to normal. This is not the first time he has dreamt this, and it will not be the last; neither of those facts makes the terror of it fade away any faster.

Dana isn’t next to him. He thinks at first that she’s gone in for a shift at the hospital, but then he remembers their agreement: to build up anticipation for their wedding day in exactly one week, they’ll spend the next six days apart, he at their apartment, she at her father’s. Even now, when he’d love to just know she’s here, he likes the idea. It’s silly, but it’s sweet, and they’ll much more easily avoid the problem of incurring bad luck by seeing one another dressed up and ready before they take their vows.

So he doesn’t pick up his phone and text her, even though that’s perfectly within the terms of the deal. If they’re going to cave, he’d rather it be over something bigger, not this nightmare that will probably haunt them now and again for the rest of their lives, as it has since the day they and the others saved the world. This will pass, as it always does, and his time will be filled with work and old friends and the thought of when he finally sees Dana in a dress he hasn’t been told more about than, “It’s long.”

Those are the things that ground him and start him thinking about the day ahead. He’s off duty, and Joel, Chad, and Ryan will be over soon to ring in the beginning of a week-long celebration and provide any requisite pre-ceremony support. He won’t need much—his part of everything is done, and has been for a week or so—but if he keeps having this dream, then it’ll be good that his old teammates will help the days go by with no more stress than anticipated.

The last vestiges of the dream disappear in the encroaching heat of what promises to be a day for little to no outdoor activity. Any other day, he’d flip on the air conditioner and climb right back into bed, but since he’ll have company anyway, Carter gets up and starts his morning.

He’s showered and made coffee when there’s a knock on the door, loud and rhythmic and very much Joel. Turning off the coffeemaker, he goes to the door and lets his friends in.

“First things first,” proclaims Joel, as he goes right to the kitchen to pour himself a mug of coffee. “One, rest assured you will enjoy this week. Two, I’m coordinating with Angela so there’s no chance we’ll run into each other when we’re out. Three, seriously, man, congrats, this is great. No ball-and-chain ‘jokes’,” he adds, making air quotes. “That’s a load of bull. Married life is great when you’re with the right person.”

“Thanks,” Carter answers. “But remember what I said: nothing too outrageous.”

“We’re going to sit around and knit,” Ryan tells him with a smirk.

Carter rolls his eyes. “Hilarious. Though that could come in handy someday, you never know.”

“We _are_ going to teach you how to dance, though,” says Chad.

“I already know how to dance.”

“No.” Joel sets his mug down on the countertop—it’s one of Dana’s, pink with white bubbles shaped like hearts. “You know how to follow a beat. We’re going to teach you how to _dance_.”

“But Dana doesn’t—”

“We’re going to teach her, too,” Ryan interrupts. “We’re taking turns.”

“You’re all serious,” Carter half states, half asks.

Chad beams at him. “Of course we are!”

“This wedding is going to be _almost_ as good as mine and Ange’s,” Joel tells him. “Here’s to you two waiting ‘til you’re good and ready to tie the knot.” He lifts his mug up in a mock toast and takes a long sip of coffee.

Carter chuckles, shaking his head. It’s going to be a memorable week, that’s for sure.

 

*

 

After work on day one of Operation: Strategic Separation, Dana sits at the foot of her bed in her old bedroom at her father’s house. Nancy sits across from her, doing her nails in a pearly shade of pink, a trial run that isn’t strictly necessary but is nonetheless a nice addition to the evening, while Kelsey pours a packet of powdered rose hip tea into the first of four mugs, one for each of them.

Behind Dana and up on the bed, Angela works a deep conditioning treatment into Dana’s damp hair with sure, gentle fingers. The conditioner smells like lilac and rose, very _pink_ , which makes Dana smile in the lull that has fallen over them.

She imagines that, if her mother were alive, she’d be here, too, doing any of the things her friends are doing for her, or maybe something none of them can think of. The warmth that thought produces in her threatens to bring her to tears, but it soon crests with no such display. Dana breathes through the receding wave, letting herself drown in the scent of flowers and nail polish that fills the room.

“You’re the best,” she says, her voice a little thicker than normal. “All of you.” She pauses and clears her throat. “Really. You don’t have to do this.”

“You were just as nice to me when Kelsey and I got married,” Nancy reminds her. “And you’ve been nothing but nice ever since. Of course we don’t _have_ to, but I definitely _want_ to.”

“Me, too,” says Kelsey, as she gets started on the second cup.

“And I want to be here for you, too,” adds Angela, as she smooths back Dana’s hair. “But just so you know, you might hate us by mid-week.”

Dana arches an eyebrow. “Why?”

Leaning forward and tilting her head so she can look at Dana, Angela says, “We’re going to teach you how to dance.”

“But I already know—”

“No, you don’t,” Nancy interrupts. “Not _really_.”

“Yes, I do!”

“You can fake it,” Kelsey says. “Both of you can. But we’re not letting you get away with that. Even if you never dance that well again, you’re going to _kill it_ at your reception.”

“I’m not really sure that’s the kind of phrase I want attached to my wedding day,” Dana protests, even as she laughs. “But I _do_ think it’ll be fun to learn.”

“ _I_ thought it would be cool to do some fancy choreography,” Kelsey tells her, shaking out the last of the contents of the third packet. “But then _Angela_ said—”

“That choreography takes a lot of work,” Angela interrupts, “and that you and Carter would have to get together to rehearse, and that since the both of you decided to spend the week apart, it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Kelsey rolls her eyes, but she can’t wipe the grin off her face. “You guys are _way_ too cute all the time.”

“ _Thanks_ , Kels.” Dana beams. “And honestly, it’s not like we can’t see each other _at all_. It’s more like going back to when we weren’t living together.”

“ _Way too cute_ ,” Kelsey repeats, and sticks her tongue out at Dana.

“Done.” Nancy screws the cap back onto the nail polish and fans her hand over Dana’s nails. “I really like this color.”

Peering over Dana’s shoulder, Angela nods. “It’s beautiful.”

Kelsey finishes stirring powdered tea into the fourth cup, sets the spoon on the cloth napkin she brought in from the kitchen, and crosses to the others for a closer look.

“Nice,” she says, nodding. “Kinda predictable, but I like it.”

“Maybe we can draw shapes on my nails,” Dana suggests, her grin widening as she tries to hold back a giggle.

Kelsey meets her gaze, deciphers Dana’s intent, and shakes her head. “ _No_.”

“I don’t know. Maybe we can play around with designs,” muses Nancy, who’s been too busy checking Dana’s nails for smudges to notice much else.

“Simple geometric ones,” Dana adds.

“Dana, _no_ ,” says Kelsey.

“I kind of like them like this,” Angela remarks, using a hair tie to hold Dana’s braid in place. “Up to you, though.”

“ _No_ ,” Kelsey repeats.

“But Kelsey,” Dana begins, “without geometry, everything is _pointless_.”

“ _Nooo!_ ” Kelsey throws her head back and heaves a long, loud sigh. But try as she might to hide it, her shoulders are shaking with badly-suppressed laughter.

Nancy slides an arm around Kelsey’s shoulders and presses a kiss to her cheek. “She’s staying with her dad, hon. Of _course_ there’ll be dad jokes at every chance. We knew what we were signing up for here.”

Dana grins. They are, in fact, the best.

 

*

 

Day 2: Lesson

 

Of the girls, Nancy is the best dancer. She is also the most patient, which is exactly what Carter needs in a teacher-slash-dance partner.

“One more time,” she tells him, smiling up at him.

Kelsey starts the music, and Carter starts guiding Nancy around the living room. He’s slow, and his steps are still a bit jerky, but he’s getting better. For a first lesson, he’s not doing so bad—but then again, he’s also got Angela watching his technique and doling out suggestions like she’s critiquing a science experiment. If he’s not at least passably good at leading in at least one form of ballroom dancing by the end of the week, it’ll be because he’s hopeless.

“You’re a bit slow. Skip two beats and pick up from there,” says Angela. “One, two, _go_.”

He nods along with her instructions and takes a step forward on go, but directs Nancy to the side.

“Sorry,” he says, shooting her a sheepish grin as he steadies her. “Can we start over?”

Sighing heavily, Kelsey stops the music and gets up from her seat on the couch. She sticks a hand between Carter and Nancy, parting them as she says, “Here, we’ll show you. Watch me.”

Carter steps back, towards Angela, who starts the music again.

Kelsey makes leading look easy, spinning Nancy once before guiding her across the floor, then back. When they stop, mid-song, Kelsey beams at Carter and says, “See?”

Shaking his head, he laughs. “Not really. You two know each other so well, you probably weren’t even thinking about it.”

“Ugh, fine,” groans Kelsey. She lets Nancy go and holds out her hand to Angela. “Care to join me?”

Angela chuckles as she stands. “I’d be delighted.”

Nancy takes Angela’s spot on the couch and starts the song from the beginning.

Kelsey is just as good at leading Angela as she is at leading Nancy, so this time, Carter pays attention. Now that they’ve taught him what to look for, he easily follows along, knows what Angela will do in response to Kelsey’s direction. They never miss a step or a beat, and neither of them looks down once.

When the song ends, Carter and Nancy clap.

“If I can just be a quarter as good as that, I’ll be happy,” Carter tells Kelsey.

In response, she walks over to him and claps her hand on his shoulder. “You will be. I have faith in you.”

“Why don’t you try following for a song or two?” Nancy suggests. “It’s easy to forget what it feels like to be led.”

“Good idea,” Angela remarks. “The refresher will be good. Don’t worry about anything but following.”

“And listening to the music,” Nancy adds. “That always helps me.”

Kelsey holds out her hand to Carter, all but sticking it in his face. “May I have this dance?”

He laughs as he looks up at her. “Sure thing.” He takes her hand and lets her guide him to the middle of the living room.

Nancy starts the next song, and Kelsey leads him in an easy sequence of steps. Carter listens, counting the beat in his head until Kelsey squeezes his hand.

“Stop counting,” she tells him, and before he can ask how she knows, she adds, “You’re nodding along. Relax. Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

Which is much easier said than done, but he tries. Keeping his eyes on Kelsey’s helps. She’s confident, and her smile is full of encouragement. If he didn’t already know he could trust her, he’d be certain of it now.

 

*

 

“Have you ever taken Marina out dancing?” asks Dana, as Chad leads her into a turn. “Because you’re really easy to follow, and I bet she’s an amazing dancer.”

“Now and then,” he answers, dipping her as the music swells. “But I don’t think she’s too impressed.”

Dana laughs, tightening her grip on his hand and his shoulder. “Okay, _show-off_.” She’s still grinning as he rights her, and she tries her best to keep up as he goes right back into leading. “What’s the warning for that? Just so I’m prepared for next time.”

“No next time,” Chad promises. “Maybe if we were on the beach, I would, because then if we fall, the sand won’t hurt as much as this floor will.”

“He says that from experience,” Joel remarks, arching his eyebrows at the pair of them.

“Oh?” Dana glances at Joel, then looks at Chad again, whose cheeks have gone a bit red. “Oh, _no_.”

“Let’s just say Marina is a really good dancer, and I’ve had trouble keeping up with her.” He shrugs, and his grin turns bashful. “This is why we only do beach parties now and then.”

Words of comfort and encouragement are halfway out of Dana’s mouth when she steps on Chad’s foot. The kind words disappear, and all she can do is gasp, hop back from him, and apologize in a rush. 

“I’m okay, it’s okay!” he insists, but he bites his lip after saying so, and she can’t tell if he’s holding back a groan or a laugh. 

“Are you sure? Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

“Break time,” Ryan declares. He gets up from the couch and heads for the kitchen, shaking his head at Dana as he passes her.

“Don’t start,” she calls after him, the threat in her voice turning weak and harmless as she follows the words with a chuckle. She turns and watches Chad plop onto the arm chair, where he leans back and sighs.

“Teaching is hard work,” he says. 

“I’ll swap with you,” Joel offers, flicking through songs on his mp3 player. “You, though.”

When he doesn’t add to that, Dana turns to him and finds him staring her down. “Me?”

“Yes. Sit for a sec. You won’t learn a thing if you’re all tense.”

“Fair point.” She walks to the couch and takes the spot Ryan had claimed earlier, propping her feet up on the coffee table. “Okay, be honest. How hopeless am I?”

“You’re not hopeless,” Chad says, smiling at her. “It just takes practice.”

Joel nods at his music player and sets it down by the portable speakers on the side table. “Let me put it like this: we probably should’ve started teaching you a month ago, and I think I speak for all of us when I say I’m glad you’re not wearing shoes right now.”

Ryan pokes his head out from the kitchen to say, “She’s not _that_ bad,” before slipping back out of sight, just as the microwave dings.

Rolling her eyes, Dana folds her arms across her chest. “Oh, thank you _so much_ , Ryan, for that _extremely_ supportive assessment.”

“I’m making you popcorn.”

“You are the best brother in the world, and never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“You’re fine,” Joel cuts in, his shoulders lifting in a silent laugh. “You just need practice. _Without_ shoes, for now, until you’re more used to it.”

Ryan emerges from the kitchen then, carrying a large bowl filled with popcorn. As he approaches the couch, Dana lifts her arms to him; he gives her the bowl and sits next to her.

“So,” she says to him, grabbing a handful off the top of the bowl. “You think I’m bad at this.” Keeping her gaze on his, she stuffs some popcorn in her mouth.

“I _have_ to say that.” He arches his eyebrows at her. “It’s my sacred duty as your older brother, I keep being told.”

“Who told you that?”

Shrugging, he lifts his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

Dana narrows her eyes and tosses a few pieces of popcorn at him.

“Hey!” He protests, picking the projectiles up from the couch cushions, as Joel and Chad snicker none too quietly. “Do you want Dad not to let us come over anymore?”

“Fine,” she says, and she laughs as she pops another piece into her mouth.

Joel hits play on the music, and Dana listens, tapping a foot to the beat, ready for her next attempt at dancing.

 

*

 

Day 3: Family

 

When Dana wakes up from the dream of Carter falling, her hands are always balled into fists, squeezing the sheets tight. It takes a few breaths before she’s able to let go and lift a hand to her heart, which beats hard and fast against her ribs.

It’s four in the morning. Her father’s house is quieter than home is, since it’s farther from the vehicle and people traffic of the city proper. For a moment, she hates this week apart thing she and Carter had decided to do. Then, she heaves a sigh. There’s nothing to do about it now, and it isn’t really that bad. She’s had the dream when he’s on shift at the firehouse before. There is nothing new about this. All that’s left now is to get up and head to the kitchen for a glass of water, standard procedure for shaking away the last of the dream’s after-effects, the lingering feeling of dread and unease.

The light in the kitchen is already on when she steps out of her room. She squints against the brightness in the hall as she draws near, and holds out a hand to touch the wall as she walks inside, her eyes almost closed as she waits for her pupils to adjust.

“What are you doing up?” she asks in the general direction of the sink.

“I’m aging,” her father answers. “Don’t you know you need less sleep as you age?”

“I’m pretty sure that isn’t true, but I’ll take it.”

He chuckles, and she follows the sound, shielding her eyes with her free hand. She reaches the sink just in time to see him pluck a cup from the rack and start filling it with water from the tap.

“Your turn,” he says. “What’s got you up and about at this hour?”

She takes the proffered cup with both hands, shrugging. “Nerves.” As she takes a sip, she glances at him over the cup—he doesn’t believe her. “Bad dream,” she admits a moment later, sheepish. Her gaze goes to the water in the cup, and she remembers, sharply, the feeling of looking down into the tomb. “It’s been over fifteen years, and I still dream about what could’ve happened in the Skull Cavern.” 

“Ryan has been with us again for just as long,” he reminds her, “and I still dream about the accident.”

“We actually _did_ lose him then, though,” she murmurs, meeting his gaze. “We only _almost_ lost Carter.”

“That’s frightening enough on its own.”

“Yeah.” Sighing, she shakes her head. “Anyway, that’s why I’m up. But it’s over now, and it’ll be okay. It’s always okay.”

Her father smiles, sympathetic and comforting. “I know that you know this, but it’s okay to be afraid.”

Nodding, she sets the cup down by the sink. For all that he’d never failed to be there for her growing up, had seen her through every bump in the road to young adult hood all by himself, had held her close after every nightmare and let her choose silence if she needed it, she’d still managed to be intimately familiar with fear. And never once had he faulted her for the things that kept her up at night, not when she was a child, and not now.

“You don’t have to tell me any more than what you have,” he adds, putting an arm around her shoulders, “but if you find that you want to, I’ll listen.”

Nodding, she leans against him and lets out a heavy sigh. “Thank you, Dad,” she murmurs. She may be all grown up, but right now, she needs her father, just like when she was little.

For a while, they simply stand like this, floating between night and day, wake and sleep. This twilight space softens the remaining edges of the dream, eases the tension that grips her when she wakes from it. This always takes much longer when she’s by herself, but here, now, with the one person she’s been able to count on her whole life, it passes quickly.

She could fall asleep again if she stays like this, and the second time she feels herself start to drift off, she draws a breath and clears her throat. “I’m gonna go back to bed.” Straightening, she picks up her cup of water and turns to face her father. “Tomorrow morning, though. The nerves will hit me halfway through breakfast.”

Smiling, he nods. “Any time at all.”

She kisses his cheek and heads off to her room, where the silence is no longer stifling, and sleep beckons to her again.

 

*

 

Mid-week, Carter meets his mother for lunch on the boardwalk.

“Fish tacos,” she tells him, taking his arm when he reaches her. “My treat. I’d make them myself, but I haven’t been to the fish market this week.”

“Whatever you want is fine,” he says, looking down at her. He’s been taller than her since he turned fourteen, but in his mind, he’s small next to her, a boy who wishes he were half as strong as she is.

“You know when was the first time I knew she was good for you?” she asks once they’re sitting on a bench on the boardwalk, food in hand, facing the ocean. “When she got you to take more than just a few days off work.”

“The trip to the mountains,” he says with a wry grin, shaking his head. “That was a disaster.” They’d decided to go on a whim and planned it in only a few days. Halfway there, their car had gotten a flat, and when he and Dana arrived at the hotel, the receptionist told them they’d given their room to someone else. They’d wound up having to burn through most of their budget to find lodging that first night, proof that even saving the world didn’t guarantee anyone star treatment.

“But it was worth it,” his mother reminds him.

He nods, snickering. “Of course.” All of that mess, just so they could say they’d seen snow firsthand. It had all been worth it to create that memory together, a first for them both. “That’s what made you start to like her? Not, you know, that we were helping to save the world?”

“I always liked her,” his mother states, nodding at him. “I liked all of your teammates from moment one, because I could tell you all cared about each other. The thing is, that trip is when I knew you were going to be okay even without your mission keeping you together. That, and I’m bound to side with anyone who gets you to take a vacation that lasts longer than a day or two.”

“But never taking a day off has always been my specialty.” He takes a bite of taco as his mother smiles and rolls her eyes at him.

Fifteen, twenty years ago, he would have sworn there’d never come a day where the two of them could just relax and really, truly enjoy themselves, with no bills hanging over them, and no frantic budgeting in the last week of the month because one of them got sick, and the money for the week’s groceries had to go to medicine instead.

He hadn’t been the only one of his friends in school to get a job as soon as legally possible, but while most of his peers drafted essays for their college applications and studied hard for their entrance exams, he’d kept at those part-time jobs. The few kids who envied his income (meager, compared to what it was after high school, but sizeable in the mind of a high school junior who was down to ten hours a week at most to make room for the extra studying) were made to endure a brief lecture from one particularly pushy parent, who cited statistics to entice them all to get a degree. Never mind if Carter overheard, again and again, that they’d all be making more money than him in the long run. It didn’t matter, so long as he could do his part as soon as he was able.

His mother never pushed him one way or the other, but he had no interest in school. He was lucky that way. His dream profession didn’t require a degree, just hard work and dedication, which he possessed in spades.

Then had come Lightspeed.

Being a Ranger hadn’t scared him. By then, risking his life on the job had become as normal to him as taking a daily run. Being team leader, though, had been a change. With his childhood hero as a mentor and four tenacious teammates at his side, saving the world had been, in spite of all the dangers it had presented, an adventure, one he and the others—and the whole world, in many ways—will always cherish.

Had his old friends ever watched the news in those days and thanked goodness that Carter had forgone college? He certainly had, and still does, even now, when the world is under the watchful eye of a new generation of Rangers, and he gets the gift of a quiet afternoon with his mother.

He crumples up the wrapper for the taco he’s just finished and tosses it into the trash can by the bench. “Would it make you happy if I told you I’ve thought about retirement?”

Her eyes fly wide open, and she lifts her free hand to her heart as she swallows a mouthful. “ _My_ son thought about retirement? _Before_ age forty?”

“You know I can retire early.” He shakes his head, snickering. “Someone from CalPERS came to talk to us about it at the fire house last week. He was saying that, if I wanted to, I could probably get a legislator to write a bill that would give me service credit for the year of active Ranger duty.”

“Would you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think so. It’s not as if money is tight. We don’t have any dependents, and if anything were to happen to me, Dana will be fine. Besides, I didn’t become a Ranger because I want a big retirement check every month.”

For a while, his mother is silent, only nodding as she finishes her lunch and throws away the wrapper. Then, she meets his gaze and tells him, “You know, I used to worry so much about you. I still do, because you run into danger when every basic human instinct is telling you to run away from it. That’s terrifying. I used to spend whenever I could praying you’d survive every shift. Then, when I heard you were fighting demons, of all things—”

“I know, Mom.” He doesn’t bother trying to smile, to treat it lightly. The first time he’d gone on shift, she’d cried, and he’d forced himself not to give in to the tightness in his chest at the sight of her. He’d told himself it was because she was proud of him and nothing more, but deep down, he’d known. “And I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” She covers his hand with hers, giving his fingers a firm squeeze. “I just want you to know that you’ve more than proven that I can trust you. I’m your mother, I’m _always_ going to be scared for you. But you’ve… Everything you do, it’s for the right reasons. I…” She bites her lips as she trails off, nodding at him. “I’m proud of you.”

Some part of him will always be a boy where she’s concerned, wide-eyed and shaky-footed even as he puffs out his chest in the face of a big, wide world that’s full of danger and the unknown, no matter his age or strength.

But knowing he’s done right by her, he can breathe easier.

 

*

 

Day 4: Nerves, Pt. 1

 

“Not again,” murmurs Carter, once he and the others have settled into the living room to a coffee table full of Chinese take-out and the radio on low. “I hate this.”

“What are you talking about?” Joel demands, spearing a spring roll with a knife. “We had a tame night out. Also, I thought you liked Chinese food.”

“He’s not talking about the night out or the food,” Ryan states. He scoops chicken and veggies into a bowl, nodding when Chad holds the container of noodles out to him. 

Joel narrows his eyes at Ryan. “What are you, psychic? Let the man speak for himself.”

“For what it’s worth,” starts Chad, glancing up at Carter, “Kelsey says you’re coming along great with your dancing.”

Leaning back in the couch, Carter sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. “Fifteen years, and all I’ve got to show for it is a week’s worth of dancing lessons?”

Joel’s fork clatters against his bowl as he turns sharply to look at Carter. “Are you getting cold feet?”

Carter’s gaze shoots up to him. “ _No_.”

“Dana’s told me a lot fire puns,” Ryan remarks. When Chad and Joel frown at him, he shrugs. “What? It could help _break the ice_.”

“Don’t start,” Joel says, but all four of them are already grinning.

“Talking seriously, though,” Ryan amends, “what’s bothering you?”

At first, all Carter can do is shrug. How does someone put into words a sense of unease? He used to feel this when way now and again when they were on active Ranger duty, after a few days with no monster attacks and no emergencies so bad that Lightspeed was called to assist. Back then, he’d accepted it as part of the job, like the regular injuries he and the others sustained, and all the additional, more specialized training they’d had to do. Since then, that sense has been dimmed, and last year’s call to action had almost caught him off guard.

This isn’t quite the same, though, because there’s no threat hanging over their heads, no danger lurking in the shadows, waiting for the chance to strike. But the feeling is still there, dull but persistent

“Well,” he begins, “I can tell you for sure that it doesn’t have anything to do with dancing.” 

“Okay, that’s progress.” Joel nods, urging him on.

Shrugging again, Carter sighs. “The truth is, it’s nothing at all. It’s just a feeling, like something is going to happen, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it. Remember when we had that party in the Aquabase when we thought we’d defeated Diabolico for good, and then the alarms went off? I keep waiting for that, for the alarms to go off, right now.”

For a while, they’re silent. Carter listens to the music coming from the radio, a slow, moody song whose whispered lyrics he can’t understand. He glances at each of the others in turn, catches a nod here and a frown there, then looks down at the bowl in his lap.

“That makes sense, after last year,” says Ryan. “But I don’t think you’re talking about an enemy.”

“No,” answers Carter. “That’s what I hate about this. I _know_ nothing is wrong. I trust that every team of Rangers will keep the world safe. I—I run into burning buildings and dangerous situations for a living, for goodness’ sake. Why is the thought of signing a piece of paper so upsetting? After everything we’ve all been through, this is nothing at all.”

“But it means a lot,” Joel tells him. He waits a moment, letting the words ring in Carter’s head, and then continues. “A _lot_. You spend your whole life hearing about how marriage is such a huge step, not being given the space to even wonder if it’s something you want. And then, even when you meet someone you love, when you’re with them, you think—I’m not worth it, they’re better than me, they deserve better.” Snorting, he shakes his head and murmurs, “All these years later, and I _still_ think that sometimes. But _anyway_ —” He grabs his fork and points it at Carter. “You, and all of us, we know better than a lot of people that life could take a turn for the worst in just a snap, and as tough as everyone likes to act, that’s the scariest thing I can think of. It’s not the wedding. It’s not even knowing that the world could end. It’s both of those things, and so much more.”

This time, the silence that follows is shorter, ended when Chad remarks, smiling, “You know, Joel, you should say things like that more often.”

Joel sighs, shaking his head. “Ask the right question or make the right comment, and my wisdom is yours for the taking, friends.”

And just like that, the tightness in Carter’s chest loosens. The nervous feeling is still there, even as he looks around at the others, picturing the ones who aren’t in this room right now, and knows that they’ll step up, all of them, if the world or even one of them needs their combined strength. Maybe it won’t _ever_ go away—but he’ll never have to face it alone.

 

*

 

Day 5: Visitors

 

The westerly winds are strong today, so Dana uses her free hand to shield the single lily from the breeze as she walks the familiar path across the cemetery. She’s already texted Kelsey to let her know she’ll be a few minutes late to her and Nancy’s place after work. They’ve been working so hard on her dance lessons that she’d thought Kelsey would give her a hard time for it, but all she’d sent Dana in response was a smiley face. Whether Kelsey knows where Dana is going or imagines she just needs a break, she gives her this small piece of her afternoon.

Dana will tell them later, but for now, she needs to keep this detour to herself.

As she walks, she goes over all the things she wants to say, reciting a few key phrases in her head, nodding now and then when she gets to the more important things. She’s too wrapped up in this to notice someone else is already at the headstone until she’s only a few yards away. 

All at once, her mind goes blank, but she keeps walking, drawn to the familiar figure and the red of his sweater.

“Hey,” she says when she’s nearby.

Carter turns to face her, his eyes wide. “Oh. Hey. I— Sorry, I messed us up. We’d been doing so well!”

She shakes her head, stopping in front of him. “That doesn’t matter.” Biting her lips, she glances at the tombstone, her breath catching as she reads her mother’s name. “Um—” She meets his gaze, forcing herself to smile even as her vision starts to blur. “What brings you—” It sounds wrong in her head and even worse out loud, so she leaves it at that, her fingers closing a little more around the petals of the lily.

Shrugging, he looks down. “Same as you.”

Sniffling, she gives a little laugh.

For a while, neither of them speaks, the wind the only sound between them as she sets the lily on the ground before the tombstone, next to the rose he’s already placed there. She bows her head for a few seconds, and then she takes his hand.

It isn’t that his being here at all is strange; they’ve been here together before, and possibly apart. He hasn’t told her if he has. No; it’s that he’s here just before their wedding, to spend time with her mother when they know she can’t be physically present with them for the ceremony.

“I bet she would’ve loved you,” she says, nodding absently, her voice hushed but steady.

“Thanks,” he tells her. “I know I would’ve loved to meet her.”

“Me, too,” she murmurs.

In the time it takes her to take a breath, he lets her hand go and slides an arm around her; and without missing a beat, she turns and hugs him, resting her head on his shoulder as she sighs.

“I can’t wait for this week to be over,” she confesses, shutting her eyes. “I’m excited, and it’s been fun, but I just… I just want to be home with you.”

“Ditto,” he says, pulling her a bit closer. “Almost there. Just another two days.”

“Yeah.” Breathing deep, she tilts her head back and looks up at the sky. “I can’t show up at the house with red eyes.”

He chuckles, the sound so quiet that she feels more than hears it, a soft rumbling in his chest. “Code for, ‘let’s stay like this for a while.’ Got it.”

She smiles, snuggling against his side. “Thanks.”

“Any time at all,” he says, and rests his head against hers.

 

*

 

Day 6: Nerves, Pt. 2

 

“I’m not ready,” says Dana, her eyes unfocused as she realizes just how true what she’s just blurted is.

“Of course you are,” Kelsey tells her. “You’ve been ready for a long time. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” Dana insists. “No, I’m not ready.”

“Yes, you are,” Angela says, crossing the room and taking one of Dana’s hands in both of hers. “We’ve made sure you have everything you need, and I promise to solve any problem that pops up within the next twenty-four hours.”

That snaps Dana out of her misery long enough to frown at her. “The wedding is in eighteen hours.”

“Not the best time to be literal.” Angela shakes her head and pats Dana’s hand. “Also, I’m extending the promise beyond normal terms. Don’t question it.”

“But—”

“No buts,” says Nancy, crossing her arms. “What could possibly have you so worried?”

Dana takes a slow, deep breath and looks at each of her friends in turn. “I’m—I’m so bad at dancing, and I just feel like I’m supposed to be really good at it, and what if Carter’s mom hates that I can’t dance? I can’t have her hate me. She’s so nice, I don’t want to ruin that because I’m an awful dancer, and—” 

“Whoa, whoa, _whoa_.” Kelsey shakes her head as she goes up to her, and slings an arm around her shoulders. “First off, Carter’s mom doesn’t hate you. I don’t think _anybody_ hates you, but the point is that she definitely doesn’t, and she wouldn’t hate you just because of a few missed dance steps. Second, okay, you’re not the world’s best dancer, but you can follow when someone leads, and that’s all you need to know for the reception. And finally, I saw you pretend to walk past the door, Ryan, so just come in here already and tell your sister she’s going to be okay.”

Dana frowns and looks up at the door just in time to see Ryan walk in, shaking his head.

“How do you _do_ that, honestly,” he half asks, half deadpans as he heads towards them, a smile on his face.

As Kelsey and Angela move away from her, Dana gives Ryan her best pout. “I can’t dance, Ryan.”

“Yes, you can,” he says, and without missing a beat, he pulls her into a gentle hug. “You’re just nervous, and not even about the dancing thing. It’s going to be okay.”

She feels better already, with him here, but she holds him tight anyway. “Can’t we just spar instead of having a first dance? We’re both good at that.”

“No,” he answers, and when he laughs, the others join him. “Breathe.”

Dana does as told, taking a few measured breaths, relaxing into her brother’s embrace.

“There, that’s better,” he says softly. “I’m told it’s normal to be nervous. Carter’s nervous, about all the same things as you, I guarantee it. And Dad is nervous, too, believe it or not.”

“Are _you_ nervous?”

Ryan places his hands on her shoulders, and Dana lets him push her back far enough so he can meet her gaze.

“No,” he tells her, “because I know everything is going to be okay.”

She stares at him, and the nervous buzz in her head starts to fade away, replaced by memories from the past fifteen years. Her family, her friends, the few battles they’ve been part of since sealing the demons away for good, everyone’s support as she journeyed through med school and beyond, scouring news sources for information on new teams’ battles, intermittent press interest in their post-demon adventures, countless quiet moments with any number of her teammates. In the face of all these things and more, this one day seems like such a small thing to worry about.

“You’re right,” she says to her brother, slowly giving in to a smile. “But—” She shoots the others a glance. “Can I talk to Ryan alone for a sec?”

Kelsey starts to say something, but Angela and Nancy each take one of Kelsey’s arms and escort her out of the little dressing room, shushing each other and giggling together even as they shut the door behind them.

Not missing a beat, Ryan arches his eyebrows at her in silent question.

“Okay,” she sighs. She tugs on his wrists so he releases her shoulders, grasping his hands in hers when he does. “This is almost more irrational than the dancing thing, I’ll admit that right away, but it got in my head this morning, and I haven’t been able to shake it since.”

“What is it?” he asks, low and gentle, giving her hands a squeeze.

She takes a breath, holds it a moment as she bites her lips, then meets his gaze with a frown. “What if something happens? What if the new kids are in trouble all of a sudden, their enemies overpower them or something, and they need us to help them? I don’t mean to sound selfish—of course I’d go if they asked, no matter when. It’s not even the wedding that I’m worried about. It’s just—what if all of us, together, aren’t enough next time?”

Even in their own time, all those years ago, it was a fear that kept her up at night, now and again. If they failed, so much suffering would follow, and it always falls on very young adults to fight. The more time passes, the more she thinks about that, about the newest team of Rangers, young kids with bright futures put on hold because they’re able and willing to fight so the whole world can keep on living.

It’s such a heavy burden to bear, even with a team to depend on.

“That’s always going to be possible,” Ryan tells her, and she shuts her eyes and nods. “We’ve just got to trust them,” he continues, “the way all the teams before us trusted us. Besides, I don’t know about the current threat to the world, but _I_ wouldn’t risk making you angry.”

She laughs, quirking her lips as she meets his gaze. “My diva days have _long_ since passed, honest.” Then, considering it for a moment, she adds, “But I _would_ be pretty upset to be interrupted, even though this is only the rehearsal.”

“Speaking of, everyone’s ready to get started.” Nodding at her, he smiles.

“Thank you,” she tells him, smiling back. She lets go of his hands and takes his arm, leading him to the door. “Come on. Let’s get our rehearsal on.”

 

*

 

Day 7: Together

 

It’s a closed ceremony at Mariner Bay City Hall, with a few friends and family present for the exchange of vows and the signing of the marriage certificate, and the press made to wait outside.

“Hitched without a hitch,” Dana says once it’s all said and done, and for once, nobody groans at her pun before they start laughing.

The plan now is for the others to exit ahead of them and begin to tire the press and other spectators out.

“Let’s just run past them,” Carter says to Dana as the casual procession begins. “We can make it.”

“Tempting,” she says. Out in the front of the line, Joel and Angela open the doors and step outside. From here, they watch as cameras start to flash and rice starts to fly. “But I’m not wearing running shoes.”

“I’ll carry you,” he offers, smirking, watching her fight back a wry grin. “I’ve been carrying people out of burning buildings for years, I can handle this. Besides, it’s tradition.”

“ _No_ ,” she laughs, bopping him lightly on the arm with her bouquet. “Later, yes, but not for a getaway procession.”

“Fine.” He pouts down at her for a second, then shoots her a winning smile. “Let’s go show them how happy we are.”

Nodding, she faces forward, with a grin on her face that nothing in the world could hope to wipe away. He laughs and follows suit, his eyes on the bright, blue sky awaiting them.

Together, they walk out into the sunlight.

 

*

 

Joel and Angela give a joint speech at the reception, and it’s as entertaining as it is heartfelt. They end it by pointing out the favors on the tables, little fabric bags filled with sugary mints.

“I’ve got to give Ange the credit for those,” says Joel. “She’s always so good with little details like that.”

“That’s _sweet_ of you,” Angela replies, to a few good-natured groans. “But I guess it was all just _mint_ to be.”

“ _Perfect_ ,” hisses Dana, giving them a thumbs up as they sit to everyone’s applause.

No injuries are sustained during dancing. Chad and Marina steal the show, dancing to just one song before they’re off to walk on the beach, out of sight, so Marina can go home in peace.

At the end of the night, when all but a handful of their guests have gone home, the newlyweds sit side by side at their table, Carter rearranging the flowers in Dana’s hair while Dana feeds both of them leftover sugar mints.

“You know,” he says, tucking the stem of a tiny white blossom just above her ear, “I was expecting more crying.” 

“From me?” She pops a mint in her mouth. “‘Cause I promised myself I’d wait ‘til we got home to cry, if I’m going to at all.”

Snickering, he shakes his head. “I meant my mom, and your dad, and Joel, for all that he’ll swear he just had something in his eye.” 

“You saw that, too?” She laughs. “I really did love that speech.”

“I told him not to use any fire puns.” He pauses, taking the mint she holds up to him. He chews on it for a second, then adds, “I told Angela, too, in case he didn’t want to listen.”

“I thought they were on fire anyway.”

“I was kind of expecting a heated argument to break out.”

“That would’ve been a pretty hot routine.”

“It sure would’ve lit things up.”

“And I know just how we would’ve put it out.”

A lilac in his hand, he frowns at her and points at himself with his free hand. “Mandatory firefighter joke?”

Sighing, she shakes her head. “No, that’s too easy. I was thinking more like, a _spear mint_ might cool them down.”

“Wow,” he manages through a laugh. “That was something.”

“I’m not sorry.” She plucks a mint out of one of the leftover bags, holding it up with a smirk before she sticks it in her mouth. 

“You two should head home.”

Dana turns towards her father, holding up the bag of mints she’s been working on.

He shakes his head. “Go on,” he insists, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s been a long day for you both, and you’ve got a flight to catch tomorrow. I’ll make sure everything gets taken care of here.”

“What do you say?” Dana asks Carter. She waits until he’s placed the lilac in her hair before she looks at him, so as not to destroy his work.

“If you’re sure you’re okay with staying behind,” Carter says to him.

Snickering, Captain Mitchell nods at them. “Stop being so nice to me just because I’m the bride’s father. Angela and Joel are still around, too, so I won’t be alone. Go home.”

So they do, after a few, long hugs and good-byes.

Much of the drive takes them along the beach, so they shut off the car stereo and roll down the windows to let in the sea breeze and the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. The moon is half full and waning, bright in the cloudless sky. Dana stares at it until the foliage thickens and blocks her view of it when the road turns away from the coast. 

That’s when she feels the pressure of tears start in her eyes. 

She keeps it together until they’re home, helped by the quiet giggles that overcome her when Carter makes good on his promise to carry her inside. She locks the door, and he sets her on her feet, and as he shrugs off his fancy jacket, she takes in their home of so many years, finding all the little things she’d missed in her week staying with her father.

The first tear slides down her cheek when she spots a picture frame full of photos from after defeating the demons. She brushes the tear away and looks down at her hand, at the ring on her finger, at the bracelet that used to be her mother’s.

A wedding doesn’t really change much, in the grand scheme of things, after fifteen years since meeting and countless shared troubles and triumphs.

It doesn’t change much, she tells herself again as she leans into the embrace he offers her, but it means something, and that’s enough.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs once the tears have passed. “I’m just really happy, you know?”

“So am I,” he tells her. “Don’t ever be sorry for that. By the way—” Pausing, he pulls back enough to meet her gaze. “Earlier, before I left, I made what will be your favorite fruit combo from here on out.”

She frowns, intrigued. “What is it?”

“Cherry-pear.”

“Cherry-pear,” she repeats, narrowing her eyes. “Cherry—oh my gosh. _Cheery pair_. That’s _perfect_!” She laughs, brushing the tears off her cheeks. “Why’d we never think of that before?”

He gives a lop-sided grin. “We can’t come up with every pun so early in life, can we?”

Sniffling, she steps back and takes his hands. All the joy she’s felt all day, and all the memories of fifteen years come together in a warmth that fills her heart and spills over in a smile. “Come on. Let’s be a cheery pair and eat cherry-pear.”

This is what she’s here for, why today has been what it has been, a celebration of the rhythm of their life. And whether or not there’s a marriage certificate, whether or not the world is ever in mortal danger again, whether or not a pun falls flat or anything were to happen, they’ll have each other, and their friends and family 

No, not much has changed, but she never wanted anything to, anyway.


End file.
